Childhood
by Grave Bells
Summary: *Non-Graphic NONCON. Trigger Warning.* - Ever since his 10th birthday, Cooro's acted a little strange. Fly gets concerned and investigates, but never once suspects that the reason for the boy's peculiar behavior would be him. Spoilers. Pre-Series.
1. Saturday

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 1: Saturday**_

Cooro hummed merrily as he carted a basket of apples into the kitchen of Research Facility 8. He'd gone out of his way to pick all these apples to make sure he got apple cobbler instead of a birthday cake. He'd never been one for cake, and anyway, he wanted to know how to make it for later on in life. He set the basket down next to the island counter and wiped his forehead. It was hot today, but no matter. He didn't mind the heat if he was getting cobbler. He pulled out the little stool from under the prep sink, and hopped on top of it. After flicking on the water, he gathered up a few apples and began to scrub.

"Oh, Cooro!"

Cooro looked up at the sound of his name, smiling brightly at the chef who'd just entered with groceries from the market.

"Hi Sanchez!" he chime, giving the adult a small wave before returning to his work.

"What are you doing there, kiddo?" the plump man asked, looking over Cooro's shoulder as he walked by.

"Cleaning apples!" Cooro smiled happily. "I was hoping you could make a cobbler."

"Well, of course I will!" Sanchez laughed, setting his armful of bags down on the adjacent counter, by the normal sink. "Just prep all the apples and clean up the mess when you're done."

"Kay!"

There was a brief silence between the two, the only noises being the rustling of bags and the running water

"Lord Greena-Aight asked me to notify you of his absence tonight."

Cooro's smile faltered.

"Fly's not gunna be here for dinner and cobbler?" he asked, pausing in his work. Sanchez shook his head.

"He has an important meeting with his cousin tonight. He says he's terribly sorry, and that he'll make it up to you later."

"Oh. Ok, then!"

Cooro smiled contently, setting a sleek, wet apple aside to dry before grabbing another one. Normally, he'd be a little annoyed with Fly for missing his birthday, but if it was because he had a meeting with his family, then it was ok. Some things are just more important.

--

That evening was rather fun. As like every birthday, Cooro received his gifts from the other workers his age. They didn't have a lot of money, since they were children and all, but Cooro had always treasured their homemade gifts more than bought ones.

"Coowo!"

The tiny voice to his right caught Cooro's attention. He smiled merrily at the small girl, a four year old names Sierra, and keened over in his chair to get closer.

"Yes, Sierra?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her body to pull her up onto the chair next to him.

"This is fow you!" she chimed, holding out a folded piece of paper once situated in her chair. Cooro laughed gently and took the homemade card, which was decorated with a crude drawing of him and Sierra in a field of flowers. His eyes twinkled, touched by the little sloppy picture. "Do you like it?"

"I love it! Thank you!" Cooro giggled, scooping the girl into a cuddly hug. "I'll treasure it forever!"

Cooro never understood, or even knew why Sierra had come to the research facility at such a young age; it seemed to him all she was good for research wise was getting in the way. But he never questioned her presence while she was around; she was a great little kid and could cheer anyone up at the drop of a dime.

The other boys and girls delivered their gifts after cobbler. (Which was delicious, if Cooro had any say in the matter.) Falkia, the oldest kid there at a whopping 15 years old, had used half his paycheck to buy Cooro a pair of flight goggles and used some scrap leather to put together a kind of hat to wear them on.

"You always complain about the rain getting in your eyes when you fly," he'd said. "Plus, it fits your personality."

The other four kids, Charlette (13), YamYam (8), Nancy (9) and Sonny (13) had all pitched together their tiny allowances and bought pieces of fur, leather, and binding. Charlotte and Nancy had taken the time to dye the fur, and YamYam cut the leather into a pattern. Sonny, who was hilariously good with a needle, had pieced it all together into a lovely belt pouch. It wasn't big, but it was big enough to carry a few necessities.

--

After cobbler, but before bed, the seven youngsters played Sardines in the room hallway. Outside the hall was off-limits, but the bedrooms were fair game. Cooro was allowed to hide first, of course, but it didn't take long before everyone had found him. He wasn't the greatest at hiding, but his constant giggling probably didn't help at all.

They had gotten through their 14th round when Fly returned. He interrupted their game and ordered them all to bed. As the children moaned and groaned in protest, he pulled Cooro aside and told him to stop by his quarters once he was ready for bed. Something seemed off about him, but the kids ignored it. They were more interested in the gift Fly was surely going to give their companion.

Cooro hastily changed his clothes, a smile gracing his lips as he left the room. He took his time down the hallway, tapping once on each of his friend's doors on the way to Fly's. This was routine for birthdays; if Fly didn't give the birthday kid a present in front of the rest, they followed and eve's dropped to satisfy their curiosity. Fly always gave the coolest gifts. He had money, after all.

Falkia emerged from his bedroom when he heard Cooro knock on Fly's door. He waited for the younger boy to disappear inside, then crossed the hall and began tapping on doors. The first to exit were Charlette and Sierra. (Sierra roomed with Charlette due to her young age.) By the time the others were out of their rooms, Falkia had had traipsed down the hall to Fly's door. He listened gently at the crack in the door; where Cooro had left it open. After a few moments, he waved a hand to usher everyone over. All eyes that could fit peered into the dark room. The candles inside were out, but the light from the hall poured a strip of light over the foot of Fly's bed.

"-Couldn't get you a present, Cooro," Fly spoke, his speech a little off. Falkia noticed a faraway look in his eyes and frowned, but remained silent.

"Oh, that's ok Mr. Fly," Cooro accepted immediately, smiling in an understanding manner. "You don't have to buy me stuff on my birthday. Knowing you're my friend is good enough for me!"

The way Fly was looking at the young crow unnerved Falkia. Something wasn't right.

"Come sit, Cooro."

Sonny groaned gently and pulled his head away from the door. "C'mon guys; he's not going to get anything cool," he mumbled, turning and starting back down the hall. The other kids nodded and followed, glancing back as they went. Falkia hesitated a moment, a little uneasy about leaving, but soon backed away and trotted after the others. Something just didn't feel right about leaving Cooro with Fly.

"Let's not go to bed yet," he said suddenly in a hushed voice, putting a hand on Sonny's shoulder. "Let's stay in the hallway and play cards or something while we wait for Cooro."

The kids blinked a bit, noticing the slight urgency in the teenager's voice. Nevertheless, Nancy fetched her deck of playing cards, and the group took a seat in the otherwise deserted hallway to play games.

--

"Friends keep their promises, correct Cooro?" Fly asked, glancing back at the preteen out of the corner of his eye. He flexed his fingers a bit, almost idly.

"They should," Cooro responded, not seeming to notice. "Otherwise they'd be a bad friend."

Fly sighed. "Well, I have a bad friend. He didn't keep his promise, even though I kept mine."

"I'm sorry, sir," Cooro frowned sympathetically.

"Yes, me too." Fly looked at Cooro's light-outlined body, his eyes flashing. "But you keep your promises, right? You're not a bad friend."

The crow looked over at Fly's dark face, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course I would keep my promises! I don't want to let someone down.."

Fly hid a greedy grin.

"Will you promise me something, Cooro?"

"Okay."

The researcher took the 10 year old's chin in his fingers. "I think I have a birthday present for you, but you have to swear that you'll accept it. Promise you'll accept my gift?"

Cooro blinked, then smiled gently. "Of course!"

--

"Charlette! Stop cheating!"

"I'm not cheating; you just suck!"

"Oh? SO how do you explain having _five Ace's_?"

"I didn't have five! Stop lying, Sonny!"

"_You_ stop lying!"

Falkia growled darkly and confiscated the cards in the twin's hands. "You _BOTH_ should shut up before you wake someone up!" he snarled gently, whapping both Sonny and Charlette with his hand.

Sierra blinked, sitting up straight. She took a moment to listen intently, but only found herself hearing the bickering of her older friends. Shrugging it off, she smiled and returned to picking through her picture book. Once she turned the page to look at the galloping ponies, she paused.

There it was again.

The little girl glanced back at her half-whispering friends, then set her book down. She pushed herself to her slippered feet, and trotted down the hall towards Fly's room. After stopping at the door, she looked back down the hallway. The older kids still hadn't noticed her absence, so she pressed her ear on the sleek oak. It squeaked open a little farther, causing her to pull back in alarm. When nothing happened, she leaned back in.

"-op it! Please!"

"Shhh…."

"Stop… please, stop! Don't!"

The voice was quiet and pleading, and Sierra was having trouble hearing. She blinked a bit, then carefully looked into the room through the gap between the door and the jam. Her eyes widened, but she had no idea the severity of what she was now witnessing.

"You promised me…"

"N-no!"

The beam of light from the hall picked up the torsos of two bodies, one of which was considerably more petite than the other. She instantly recognized it as Cooro. He was on his back on the sheets, his shirt missing and his hands trying desperately to push the figure leaning over him away. Fly, on the other hand, was fully clothed and easily overpowering Cooro's weak attempts to get him off.

"Cooro," Fly said commandingly, using one of his large hands to keep the crow's flailing feet in the air. His other hand slipped down to the exposed waistband that kept the boy's pajama pants on. "You promised me you'd accept this."

"Please stop it, please sir!" Cooro's voice was shaky and crackling with tears; it was a sound Sierra had never heard him make before. She tilted her head a bit, blinking as the other boy was quickly stripped of his sweats.

Cooro turned over and began to scramble, as Fly had temporarily abandoned his form to discard the piece of clothing. He didn't get far before he was seized by the waist and pulled back, his clenched fingers pulling at the bedclothes.

"N-no, please…" Cooro choked, turning on his side to curl into a kind of fetal position.

"You're being a bad friend, Cooro," Fly hissed, leaning over the boy once more. Sierra's confusion and curiosity made her lean forward, farther into the door. She wished she could hear Fly's next words, but he was simply speaking too quietly. Cooro's surprised squeak drove her backwards in alarm, her feeties catching on the carpet and sending her rear-first into the floor. After quickly catching her composure, Sierra stared through the gap again. The distance gave her a smaller field of view inside, but she could still see Cooro's face, cheeks now shimmering with tears, and the dark figure of the researcher's looming body. One of his hands was pressed against Cooro's mouth; most likely to silence the squeak.

Falkia blinked, a foreign noise reaching his ears over the hushed card game. He shushed the younger kids, tilting his head in the direction of his boss's room.

"Sierra!" he hissed warningly, narrowing his eyes. Said girl looked back at the teen with wide, curious eyes, but didn't verbally respond. "What are you doing?! Get over here!"

She immediately obeyed, getting to her feet and plodding over.

"But Coowo and Fly awe playing a game!" she said quietly upon reaching them.

Falkia exchanged glances with Sonny and Charlette. "'A game'?" he questioned, quirking a brow. Sierra nodded quickly.

"Uh-huh!" she said, pointing back at the door. "But I don' think Coowo is having much fun."

"What makes you say that?"

Sierra frowned. "I nevah seen him cwy befow."

Sonny and Charlette exchanged confused looks. Cooro crying was something new to thme; they had never seen or heard about him even being upset. He was the strongest, happiest kid they knew. Something wasn't even_ close_ to being right.

The thirteen year old twins scrambled to their feet and shot down the hall, Falkia and the other kids in tow. Sierra waddled after, grabbing a hold of Falkia's hand as she caught up. Soon, 6 pairs of eyes were trying to peer into the darkness of Fly's quarters.

--

Cooro bit down on Fly's fingers desperately, successfully getting the man to let go of his face. Fly hissed and shook his hand, giving the crow just enough time to scramble off the side of the bed. He plowed his way across the floor, stumbling a bit in the space between the door and the foot of the bed. His fingers had just barely grazed the shiny door handle when a pair of strong arms seized him around the waist and hefted him clean off the floor.

"No-!" he began to yell, but soon found it impossible to do so through Fly's hand. He was carted haphazardly back over to the bed, Fly trying his best to keep his grip on the struggling boy as they went.

"If you yell," Fly breathed against Cooro's face, a strong, nauseating smell wafting from his lips. "There will be hell to pay."

Cooro immediately found himself utterly silent, faltering as he was dropped on his side. He turned a bit, his frightened expression staring down Fly's heated one.

"Sir, no more…" he pleaded, weakly pushing at the man's arms as he was turned onto his back.

"Wanna know a secret?" Fly giggled, resting his forehead on the messy sheets next to Cooro's head. That same putrid scent stung Cooro's nose, causing him to turn his face away in visible disgust. "I've always thought bird +Anima's were like angels, no matter the color of their wings."

The hair on the back of Cooro's neck rose as he felt a gentle touch trail down his abs towards his hips. "Wait, stop-"

"But angels," Fly interrupted, slipping his fingers under the waist of the boy's undergarments. "Keep their promises."

Cooro whimpered helplessly, squirming uncomfortably at the contact. He choked back a new onslaught of tears, the beating of his fists on Fly's arm going ignored. "Stop it! Stop it; I don't like it!"

"Cooro doesn't keep his promises," The man tsk'd, lifting his head to peer hazily at his captive's distressed face. He shook his head disappointedly. "No he does not."

"Y-yes I do!" the crow squeaked in protest, sniffing loudly to keep his nose from running. He quickly moved his arm to wipe away the spilling tears, but instead gave Fly a sense of danger and wound up with his wrists pinned painfully above his head. He sobbed miserably, squirming a bit under the weight of the body on top of him.

"Then why, dear boy," Fly mumbled, delivering an unwelcome lick to Cooro's ear. "Are you protesting?"

It was then that Cooro realized that, no matter what he did, Fly wasn't going to let up.

--

Falkia couldn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't bother to listen to the exchange of words anymore, his mind was racing too fast to pay attention. Why would Cooro allow something like that to happen to him? Most of all, why would Fly even _do_ that to him?!

"Falkia?" YamYam chimed quietly, gently tugging on the teen's sleeve. "Falkia, what's Fly doing?"

Said teen glanced at the young boy, then immediately turned to Charlette without answering the question. "Charlette, get Sierra to bed. YamYam, Nancy, you go to bed too. Don't tell anyone what you've seen. Sonny, meet me in my room; You too Charlette."

"But why is Coowo sad?" Sierra asked innocently, puffing out her cheeks. "I don' want Coowo to be sad!"

"He'll be okay, sweetie. Come on, let's get you to bed," Charlette cooed, taking the small girl by the hand to lead her away. Te other kids made no move to leave until Falkia started shoving them away. He didn't want them to know what was happening.

Once everyone was headed for bed, he sunk down on the wall and put his forehead in his hands.

No wonder Cooro was taking so long to leave Fly's. No wonder his intuition had told him to stay here.

After a few moments, which included Charlette crossing the hall to Falkia's room, he glanced at the slightly open door. He silently got to his feet and grabbed onto the handle. He was about to shut the door when something caught his eyes. He turned his gaze back to the inside of the room, and found himself staring into a face he hardly recognized as the boy he'd been playing with just an hour or so earlier. Cooro had his chin lightly resting on the mattress, both hands keeping it slightly elevated. His palms were pressed over his ears, his fingers tangled in and gripping his hair in an almost painful fashion. Shadow covered the rest of his body, as the man assaulting him loomed over it with his hands pressed into the sheets by Cooro's ribcage. He was staring upwards, straight at Falkia. Somehow, he didn't look the same; but it wasn't the steady waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks, or the utterly defeated, distressed, and pained expression on his visage that unnerved him the most. Cooro's eyes were so devoid of life, he may as well been dead. Any kind of glitter or shine was absent from his irises, and the unique blend of light and dark brown had melted into one, boring color. Falkia thought he couldn't even see him, until his face distorted into an impossibly more miserable look. His already nauseated insides quickly flip-flopped; Cooro was asking him for help, help Falkia couldn't give.

He wished with all his heart his friend, this beautiful, happy boy, wasn't in this situation; especially since he had never, ever done anything to deserve it. He was the sweetest, most cheerful person you'd ever meet, and he was never 'mean' unless he was protecting someone or something in need. It broke the teenager's heart to see him like this, but he was scared himself. How he wanted to burst in there and help, but he was too frightened of what Fly might do in retaliation. It was selfish, he knew, but… Falkia had never been very courageous. All he could do was sigh.

He passed Cooro a look of sorrow that read 'I'm sorry', and pulled the door shut the rest of the way.

--

AN: Yea, I'm a terrible person. I know. But I'm not about to sugar-coat something like rape, so, deal. Sorry if I made you depressed. I promise this story is less about the content of this chapter and more about the aftermath.


	2. Sunday

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 2: Sunday**_

AN: I promise this story is less about the first chapter and more about getting over molestation. It's also about the lead-up to why Cooro leaves the research facility. I'm not a crazy bitch, I promise. A little twisted, yes, but not a crazy bitch.

--

Charlette, Sonny, and Falkia spent the next morning glaring at Fly, who was leaning heavily over a sink with an icebag on his head. The other kids just munched on their oatmeal and toast merrily, pretty much forgetting what had happened the night before. Cooro didn't show up breakfast at routine time, but he showed once the other kids were finishing up. He had tired circles under his eyes, his hair was soaking wet, and he walked with a funny limp, but otherwise he didn't look too much different than normal. He yawned rather dramatically as he headed for his chair at the small table in the kitchen, stretching his arms in the air.

"Coowo!" Sierra said, hopping down from her seat. She grabbed a bowl on the counter and hurried over to the young male. "Coowo, we saved you some oatmeal!"

"Thank you, Sierra!" Cooro giggled, ruffling the girl's hair before taking his seat. He greedily scooped up 4 slices of toast, then began his usual act of chowing down.

"You're certainly hungry this morning, Cooro," Falkia observed, taking an unusually dainty bite of his oatmeal.

"Starving!" he chimed back through a mouthful of bread.

"Ah, I saved you some muffins," Charlette remembered, getting up to grab a bag from the counter. "Sanchez made some banana muffins this morning and set some aside for us kids. We already ate ours."

Cooro gave his thanks and accepted the muffins, continuing his cheerful munching. An annoyed groan sounded from the hunched figure across the room, reminding the kids of the mall man leaning over the sink.

"Ugh, must you children yell?" Fly grumbled, adjusting the ice bag.

Falkia glanced questioningly at the other kids, most of which returned the confusion.

"We aren't yelling, sir," he said, standing to take his empty glass to the prep sink, away from Fly. He got a grunt in response. Falkia frowned as he put his glass under the faucet. Cooro seemed too happy for someone who'd been sexually assaulted the night before, and Fly seemed miserable. He was grateful Cooro wasn't really depressed or anything around the younger kids, but something told him he was forcing himself. He grabbed a cloth and began to dry the cup.

"Oh, good morning, Cooro."

Falkia quickly looked up from his work to see that Fly had wandered over to the table. Cooro immediately froze up, his limbs stiffening and the smile dropping from his face.

"Good morning, sir," he responded, a forced but happy tone on his lips as he slowly continued eating.

"You seem tired, son. Something the matter?" Fly asked, a concerned look crossing his face.

"Just… Didn't sleep well, that's all…" Cooro mumbled, glancing at Fly for a very brief moment. "I'm not hungry. I'm going to go start my chores."

Fly frowned. "Alright… Let me know if you need anything."

Once Cooro had upped and left, Fly groaned in pain and took his place at the table. He pulled Sierra from the chair next to him and placed her on his lap, like he did every morning. Sierra didn't seem to mind, but Sonny, Charlette, and Falkia all visibly twitched.

"Sir?" Falkia spoke up after a few moments, walking over to the table to clean his dishes. "May I start my chores early as well?"

Fly visibly winced at the volume of his voice, but waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. "Go ahead. Remember it's you're week to tend to the plants."

The teen nodded, dropped his dishes in the sink, and hurried out.

--

Cooro had always held a good relationship with Blanca. She didn't speak much, but he had always talked to her when he had the chance. But, since her body was underground in the habitat, he rarely ever saw her in person. He'd often try and switch around the plant upkeep duty so he could see her, but more often than not he was turned down. Through experience, he'd learned that she trusted Fly implicitly. That trust, Cooro's trust in Blanca, and general childhood innocence, had led the boy to the decision that Fly was quirky, but not bad. Fly, on the other hand, had determined that Cooro was very special on the day they first met when Cooro was 7. He was a small child with a beautiful anima; it was very unique. He'd always wanted to study him. Cooro thought he was kind of vital to Fly's research of +Anima, so why would he hurt him? He needed to speak to Blanca… But he wasn't on plant duty this week.

"Cooro."

The boy looked over from the laundry basket in his hands; he'd been picking up last week's dirty laundry. He merely looked at Falkia, his eyes wide and curious, yea somehow still rather lifeless.

"You're going to turn him in, right?"

Cooro hesitated, then shook his head. "No."

"Why?" Falkia ordered quickly, his brows furrowing harshly.

"It'd ruin his career. I don't want to do that…"

"Why not?!" Falkia continued incredulously. "Tell me how his job is more important than your mental and physical health!"

Cooro smiled sadly, setting the basket on the floor. "It's not, but Fly's got good intentions. He's a nice man."

"Cooro he _raped_ you!"

"And I've forgiven him!"

Falkia sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He shook his head, digging his fingertips into his forehead.

"So, lemme get this straight…" he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He watched as Cooro dropped some clothes into the basket."He assaulted you, and you're FORGIVING him?! What did he do, BRAINWASH you?!"

"It wasn't his fault!" Cooro argued gently, frowning sadly. This obviously wasn't something he wanted to talk about. He picked up the laundry basket and left YamYam's room, squeezing by Falkia as he went.

"…Wjat do you mean?" Falkia asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice as he followed him into Charlette and Sierra's room. Cooro stopped and turned around, a sad, sorry smile on his lips.

"Fly was drunk."

The teen paused again. He wasn't expecting _that_ answer. "… W-what?"

"I could smell the alcohol when he…" Cooro hesitated, looking unusually timid. "…Ya know… Got close to my face 'n stuff…"

"But… I heard him speaking to you. He sounded like he knew what he was doing. He guilted you into not resisting."

Cooro turned and went about collecting the laundry, true expression absent from his visage. "People don't just reek of alcohol, Falkia." He sighed gently, a distressed look morphing his brow. "Can we please stop talking about this?"

Falkia nodded hesitantly, anger beginning to gnaw at his nerves. He glanced at Cooro, then turned and headed out. Cooro sighed, dropping a pair of Charlette's stockings into his wicker basket. He merely stood there, staring down at the dirty clothes.

…Clothes.

Cooro shook his head, bending over to pluck more from the floor. After hastily shoving a few dresses into the mass of cloth, he wrapped his fingers into a pair of small, white bloomers. He froze, the color draining from his face.

_Fly's lanky fingers were wrapping around the side of his thigh, forcing his only remaining garment down his legs…_

Cooro dropped the underwear into the basket like it'd suddenly caught fire. He choked back a sudden onslaught of tears, burying his face in his hands. Sobbing gently, he sank to the floor.


	3. Monday

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 3: Monday**_

"Coowo!"

Said boy turned from his place a top an examination table in the lab. He had electrodes stuck to his head and chest, which were hooked to monitors being examined by a female research assistant. He smiled brightly, waving at the little girl who was being led into the room by an adult.

"Hello, Sierra!" he chimed, spreading his exposed wings to full span. A familiar procedure; all the +Anima being studied there went through weekly examinations.

"Papi said I could come see you," Sierra grinned, letting go of her escort to climb up onto the table next to Cooro. "I told him it was weally impowtant." She added in a whisper, glancing at the older gentleman talking to the woman by the monitors.

"Any reason you wanted to see me?" Cooro asked brightly, folding his wings tightly against his back. He ran a hand through her hair, ruffling his feathers as the woman began to attach electrodes to them.

Sierra frowned worriedly. "Coowo was sad a few days ago. Siewwa was wowwied."

Cooro blinked, then gave the child a small smile. He didn't want to look troubled. "I'm just fine. Don't worry about me." He glanced at the woman behind him, who nodded and turned to the monitor box. A needle on the front, which measured nerve activity, spiked as Cooro began to move his wings.

"What's Coowo doing?" Sierra asked innocently, reaching over to poke at the electrodes stuck to his chest. Her fingers slipped off and accidentally caressed his skin, causing his muscles to immediately tense. The machine behind them clanked angrily as the needle spazzed, and Cooro quickly pushed Sierra's fingers from his skin.

"D-don't touch those," he covered, seeming a little nervous. "I'm getting my weekly check-up, that's all." He smiled weakly, his features twitching gently. As he relaxed, the needle began to fall back to normal.

Sierra pouted. "I don't get check-ups," she complained.

"You're not a +Anima." Cooro forced his smile wider.

"Well Cooro," the examiner interrupted, jotting something onto her clipboard. "Everything checks out ok, but your wings seem a bit heavy. Have you preened this week?"

Cooro shook his head, letting the smile fall off his face. "No, Ma'am."

The woman sighed, but said nothing. She pulled all the electrodes from Cooro's body, then grabbed a tool from a nearby table. Cooro sighed and stretched a wing out.

"Cooro, I can't keep preening you," the woman scolded gently, very carefully combing through his feathers with the sharp tool. "You'll never learn how to do it yourself if you don't try."

"I know," Cooro grumbled, not really in the mood for a lecture. He remained steady, feeling as he was shed of detached feathers and other things. Sierra carefully crawled off the table and trotted around to watch.

"As such," the woman began, gently pulled the tool down his feathers, pulling out more oils and left over dirt with it. "I'll have no choice but to request the clipping of your wings."

Cooro went rigid. "What? Why?" he asked, whirling a bit. "Don't clip them! I need to fly!"

"Until you learn to preen regularly, your wings will need to remain cut. If you don't preen, your wings will be too heavy to fly in the first place. They'd be so loaded down with shedding feathers, and dirt, and all sorts of gunk that it'd be too hard to flap them."

Sierra frowned deeply, reaching up and taking Cooro's hand protectively. "You awe mean! Don't make Coowo sad!"

"Sierra, what are you doing down here?" A new voice entered the conversation. Cooro's muscles had no time to relax; he immediately recognized the voice as Fly's.

"Ah, that's my fault, Lord Greena-Aight," the forgotten old man spoke up, stepping forward to grab Sierra's other hand. "Sierra said she had important matters to discuss with Cooro."

Fly nodded, a bright look replacing the confusion. He headed over to the examination table, his long robe billowing about his ankles. "I see." He glanced at Cooro, who glanced at him blankly, and knelt next to Sierra. "There's cake up in the kitchens. Would you like a slice?"

Sierra's face lit up. "Cake? Weally?" she cried, immediately pulling her escort as she hurried for the exit. 'C'mon! Cake!"

Once she was gone, the room fell silent. Cooro did his best to hide his jolt of fright, but the woman had to hold his wing in place to finish ridding it of scum. Fly silently scooped up Cooro's medical charts from their clipboard and began flipping through them. He took a moment to compare previous exams, then set the clipboard down.

"I see you're still not preening yourself, Cooro," he said, his tone betraying his dissatisfaction.

"No sir," Cooro mumbled obediently, keeping his eyes on his hands. Being shirtless around Fly wasn't new, but now, something about it made him very uncomfortable.

"Sir," the woman began, pausing in her work. "I request permission to clip his wings."

Fly frowned curiously. "…Why?"

A spark of hope flickered in Cooro's mind. He suddenly found himself praying with all his might that Fly would refuse.

"He doesn't preen regularly. As such, he doesn't know the gift it is to be able to fly whenever he likes. Ridding him of that privilege, I believe, will get it through his head just how important it is," the woman explained, stepping back a moment to look at her cleaning job of his left wing. Cooro mentally crossed his fingers as Fly pondered.

"It seems a bit harsh…" Fly started, scratching his chin. "But, I agree. Go ahead and clip his wings."

Cooro's spark was instantly doused.

"Hey wait!" he complained, comfortably folding his left wing and stretching his right. 'They're my wings! Don't I get a say? I swear I'll start preening!"

"You've said that for the last 2 months. You're getting clipped," the woman said, in a very 'that's that' manner. The subject was immediately dropped. "Sir, would you mind taking over? I need to go prepare the clippers."

The hairs on the back of the crow's neck stood on end. If Fly agreed, he'd be left alone with him again. His insides began to squirm nervously. He didn't want to be alone in the same room as Fly. Sure, he'd forgiven him for what he did, but that didn't mean he wasn't scared of him. Cooro was paranoid at what could happen, and he had a good reason.

"Sure, why not?" Fly chimed, smiling. "I've always wanted to clean the wings of a bird +Anima."

Even without feeling his touch, Cooro tensed immensely. The woman nodded, handing the tall researcher the tool she'd been using. Without a word, she turned and headed out of the room into the connected lab. The silence between the two was uncomfortable and a little too quiet, but Fly didn't seem to notice. Cooro twitched reflexively when he began to comb through the black feathers on his right wing. A gross, unfortunately familiar flip-flop churned his stomach when he felt the man's hand brush against his feathers. He jerked again, this time away from Fly, who frowned.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Cooro," he said gently, pausing in his movement.

Cooro looked at his arm warmers, which were successfully covering his slightly bruised wrists. He fidgeted, grabbing onto his biceps. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled.

"Are you ok?" Fly asked worriedly. "You've been acting strange lately."

"I'm alright… My wings are just a little sensitive, that's all," Cooro lied. Fly frowned skeptically, but didn't press the matter. They fell silent again, the only noise being the gentle scraping of the tool against Cooro's wing. The boy twitched whenever Fly touched him. Finally, after a considerable amount of flinching on Cooro's part, Fly stopped brushing him and frowned. He walked around the examination table to look at Cooro, who refused to keep eye contact.

"Cooro," he said sternly, a very serious expression on his brow. "Is someone bullying you?"

Cooro's eyes widened considerably. He knew there was going to be no way to convince the man otherwise, but he couldn't tell him the truth. But what could he do?

"No sir," he responded calmly, his heart lurching unpleasantly as the man grabbed his chin. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Fly moved his head from side to side, examining his features. The researcher emitted a small hum, them let go of Cooro and walked around the other side of the table.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" he asked, grabbing a nearby bucket and filling it with water.

"Yes sir." Cooro gently rubbed his knees, grateful the examination was of his wings. Along with the bruising on his wrists, his knees had also fared horribly Saturday night. Fly had handled them harshly, since he'd kicked a lot in protest. They were mildly bruised, but in worse shape than his wrists.

"Promise me?"

He blinked a bit, then forced on a weak smile, even though he knew Fly couldn't see it.

"….Yes."

"Spread your wings, please."

Cooro hesitated a moment, then stretched them to full span. He frowned at the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down his feathers.

His wings really WERE going to be clipped…

--

AN: A little short again, but it was still longer than before. After much consideration, I left out the actual scene where his wings are clipped. Sorry guys! It was pretty unnecessary; they're only clipped to better explain why he gets stuck in the snow that winter anyway. It takes months and months for wings to grow back to the point of proper flight again, so I'd say around the time they were grown enough to fly again would be just around the time he met Franny and her brother.


	4. Tuesday

_**Childhood**_

_**Chatper 4: Tuesday**_

Cooro stared up at Blanca's container, an idle smile on his face. Falkia had agreed to let him tend to the plants today so he could talk to her, but she was asleep. Blanca always slept a lot. She was still unstable, so she used a lot of energy when she was awake. But he didn't mind; it gave him more time to think.

The crow stood from his place and walked up to Blanca's case, staring up at her through the clear wall. He ran his eyes over her wings, frowning as his own sprouted from his shoulders. He glanced back at them, then furrowed his brows. He stepped back from the glass, then turned and ran. He spread his wings out and flapped feverishly. He fluttered weakly, his feet only leaving the ground for a few moments. He turned and ran back the other direction, repeating the motion of trying to fly. Again, he failed, and continued to do so for about five minutes.

_"They clipped your wings?"_

Cooro paused, looking around. Blanca's 'ghost' approached him, a curious air about it. He looked around it at the case where Blanca's body was suspended and found her eyes open and aware. His commotion must have woke her. He frowned and walked over, the white, bird-like shadow following him across the room.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking up at the young, pale face. "But I guess it's for my own good."

Blanca's body nodded in understanding, while the shadow circled his body.

_"You are hurt."_

Cooro blinked. "Huh?"

The bird of white light encircled his knees and wrists, then dispersed.

"Oh," Cooro mumbled, is face falling into a gloom Blanca had never seen before. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, but she made no move to communicate with him. The crow turned and leaned against the case, his back to her figure. The white shadow emerged once more from Blanca's body and circled around his front, like it was an extra pair of eyes so she could see his face.

"So, how are you?" he chimed merrily, grinning at the shadow in front of him.

_"I am sleepy."_ Blanca's voice echoed in his mind as her body yawned.

"I'm sorry I haven't seen you for awhile. No one would change plant duties with me."

Blanca merely stared off, her white eyes unfocused and blank. The shadow circled him again, slipping through the glass as if it didn't exist. The two were very quiet for a few moments while the huge mist wandered.

_"Why are you pretending nothing happened?"_

Cooro tilted his head back to stare at her, his usual bright smile gracing his lips. "What do you mean?"

Blanca's gaze fell to his face, her eyelids closing halfway. Her face remained expressionless.

_"Why are you so happy?"_

Cooro frowned gently. "I'm always happy."

The white shadow-bird slipped down the collar of his shirt, then quickly exited through his long sleeves. The fabric fluttered a bit to reveal the slightly purple bruises on his wrists for but a moment. The shadow wrapped itself around his knees, then flew off to the side. Cooro just stared at the ground, a blank look crossing his face at her actions.

_"You are not happy."_

Blanca's spectre curled into the air, then floated back into her body. Cooro's features twitched. He should have known he could never have kept anything from Blanca. Even though she was unstable and very much not a human, she could sense all kinds of things he couldn't. All he could do was sense the presence of a +Anima, and she could basically learn your life's story with a circle of her ghost. She was a lot older and wiser than she looked. He respected her, but he could never tell her directly what had happened. He thanked God he wouldn't have to.

The silence was broken by a vainly suppressed sob. Cooro had worn his mask and stood straight and tall for two days, even through contact with his attacker and the clipping of his wings. But he'd awoken this morning with the worst feeling churning his stomach after reliving the events that took place on his birthday in his sleep. He had emptied his stomach of whatever was undigested from the night before onto the fur rug beside is bed before he could even stand. He was late to breakfast again, because he'd spent so long in the bath. He'd nearly rubbed himself raw trying to scrub away the shame, and he still didn't feel clean. He was trying so hard to keep this secret, but he wasn't used to lying so often about something so serious. His mask had already been cracking and breaking off when he'd entered the habitat, but now it was shattering.

Cooro was now bent over his knees, sobbing and weeping into his palms. He hated to cry. He didn't like being upset; it made everyone around upset. No one should have to feel pain that wasn't theirs. Perhaps that's why he let himself break in front of Blanca. She couldn't feel sorry for him or really worry about him. He could talk to her, but… She liked Fly. He didn't want to ruin her image of him because of a mistake.

Blanca gazed down at him blindly. She made no move to communicate until Cooro stopped crying.

_"It was Fly?"_

Cooro sniffed loudly, looking up at the newly materialized white shadow. He exhaled shakily as he wiped his eyes. "H-how did you-?"

The girl just stared, the shadow turning and zipping from the room. Cooro's eyes widened a bit, and he looked back at her through the glass. Her blank eyes had glazed, telling him she was no longer seeing through them. He frowned, but said nothing. Something told him she had gone to find Fly. Blanca was mostly just the shell of a human, but one thing she did possess that was human was curiosity. Suddenly, going to speak to Blanca was a mistake. She would talk to Fly, and he'd be confused and approach Cooro about it… Cooro was sure Fly couldn't remember anything that had happened between them.

He was envious.

Cooro buried his face in his knees and exhaled heavily. He couldn't avoid Fly and not risk being suspicious. Somehow, his 'secret' was going to reach ears that didn't need to hear it.

Blanca returned sooner than he expected. He had looked up at the white shadow expectantly, but she merely pulled the bird of light into her body. She blinked her eyes, glanced at Cooro, and let her eyelids fall. The boy stared up at her a moment, as if waiting for her to say something. When she didn't move, he sighed and turned to leave.

That didn't go the way he wanted.

"Master?"

Cooro stiffened. He'd recognize Fly's voice anywhere. He scrambled to his feet, ducking behind the crystal that held Blanca. Not 5 seconds later, Fly walked into view, calling for Aaron once more. Out of the bushes along the near side of the habitat walked an interesting animal man, his huge feline ears drooped weakly.

"F-Fly," he croaked, hobbling towards where the man had stopped. "W-what a pleasant s-surprise."

Cooro stared intently as they wandered away. He walked out from behind the case once he heard the door on the other side of the room close. They'd gone into the library; the room that connected the facility with the habitat and many other cities. He didn't know where any of them went; they weren't allowed anywhere but the habitat. Cooro looked back at Blanca, then at the door. Fly spoke to Mr. Newt a lot… He wondered what they spoke about in those long hours.

Next thing he knew, he was peeking through the slit he'd made when he opened the door. He stared inside, utterly silent so his presence wasn't detected.

"-Personalities change with growth?" he heard Fly ask curiously. The smell of fresh-brewed lemon tea wafted into his nose. It smelt heavenly.

"Y-you mean," the creature started, pausing to drink some liquid from a green bottle. "Does the Anima i-in the human make them ch-change?"

Fly nodded, sipping his tea. "Yes."

Aaron Newt seemed to ponder this, gulping down the last of the liquid in the bottle. "Well, that depends. If the animal it came from is violent, yes, it may change the human in turn. But, I don't think any old Anima will alter their personality; at least not directly."

Cooro saw Fly's face twist in confusion before Aaron continued to speak.

"Is there something that's troubling you about +Anima, Fly?"

The tall researcher hm'd, then took a sip of tea. "It's Cooro."

Cooro's eyes widened at the mention of his name. What was wrong with his Anima? He didn't feel any different because of it…

"What about him?" Mr. Newt prodded, calmly pouring himself a cup of tea.

"His birthday was on Saturday, and ever since then he's been acting very strange. He's only turned 10, but I was hoping it was something that started because of his Anima." Fly scratched his head. "But I'd never heard of a normal Anima causing someone to act like he is."

Aaron set his cup down in an unnaturally dainty manner, licking his almost non-existent lips. "Cooro doesn't have a normal Anima, so it's possible that it's something we haven't seen before," he said, looking about the table distractedly. "What is he doing?"

Cooro's heart began to beat faster. He didn't like the fact they were discussing him like this. His Anima was perfectly normal, wasn't it? The examiner always said it was normal and fine. Why did they think he was strange?

"He's acting rather… Secluded. He's keeping to himself; he's gotten considerably less energy…" Fly paused, stirring his tea idly. "He mentioned his wings were sensitive during his last exam, but I think he was lying."

"What makes you say that?"

"He only reacted when they came in contact with skin. The preening brush didn't seem to bother him at all."

"Well," Aaron hummed, setting his cup down. "What do _you_ think is the matter?"

"At first I thought his Anima was evolving, but it doesn't really explain the boy's jumpiness. That's why I came to you. I don't want my other theory to be correct."

"What _is_ your other theory?"

Fly frowned heavily. "His actions seem to me like the after-effects of being abused. But he's not around anyone but the other kids, and the youngsters wouldn't do anything like that."

Cooro found himself short of breath. Fly was accusing Sonny, Charlette, _and_ Falkia, his three best friends? They would _never_ hurt him! If it had been anyone but Fly molesting the crow, Falkia would have barged in and stopped it. Those three were like his older siblings. Cooro turned and walked away from the door. He wasn't really curious anymore; not if they were going to speculate on his friends.

He took a moment to stare up at Blanca. He wanted to ask her why she left after he admitted who hurt him. He knew she wasn't about to wake up, though; she'd been awake rather long for her energy supply. She was probably exhausted. He frowned, looking back at the door. He wanted to go back to the facility… His stomach was starting to growl at him. But… Fly and Mr. Newt were still in the library. He didn't want to interrupt them; that would be rude. Plus, the idea of encountering Fly didn't seem like the best thing right now. He wasn't even supposed to be down here. Cooro sighed. It looked like he was stuck.

It took an hour of waiting before Aaron emerged from the library. The poor man was as feeble as ever, but he had a puzzled frown on his animal-like visage. Cooro guessed it was because of him, but he couldn't be sure. He waited for the former researcher to disappear into the bushes before sneaking out of his spot behind Blanca's tied-back curtains. He glanced about, then hurried for the door of the library. He didn't pause before pushing the door open, and entered to find Fly still pondering in his seat at the table.

Cooro froze, holding his breath. He wasn't supposed to talk to Blanca; she was 'off-limits' so to speak. Only Fly and Aaron were allowed to see her. When Fly had first found out that Blanca and Cooro had become friendly, Cooro lost a lot of privileges. He wasn't even allowed to tend the plants for two months as part of his punishment. What would Fly do now if he knew they were still talking?

Fly didn't even notice the boy's presence until Cooro tried to back out the door and shut it. At the sound of creaking hinges, he looked up to find him trying to sneak away. He knew the boy wasn't allowed into the habitat, much less supposed to be there, and furrowed his brows.

"Cooro," he said commandingly, stopping said crow in his tracks. There was a moment of silence as Cooro pushed the door back open, a classic 'hand caught in the cookie jar' look on his face. "What were you doing in the habitat?"

Cooro hesitated, walking all the way in but keeping the door open. "Watering the plants."

A suspicious look morphed the researcher's face. "It's Falkia's week to tend the plants."

"Well, I can't fly," Cooro started, idly shrugging. "And I was bored, so I asked if I could do his job today."

"You came to see Blanca, didn't you?" A sigh escaped Fly's lips. "After all that punishment, you didn't get the message not to see her?"

Cooro gulped quietly as Fly stood from his seat. His heart lurched as the tall man shut the door into the habitat. His quick escape was now cut off.

"What do I have to do to make you understand?" Fly asked, turning to look at Cooro. "Blanca isn't ready for any real contact yet. I've told you that a hundred times."

"Sorry sir," the boy mumbled, watching his fingers play with the bottom of his blue shirt.

"No, I don't think you are." Fly's voice was suddenly hot, cross. He was loud, and the sudden accusation sent Cooro recoiling a few feet.

"W-what?"

"If you were sorry you wouldn't have continued to come see her!" Cooro squeaked as Fly yanked him forward by his wrist. "What is so fascinating that you'd continually disobey me?!" He shook the short boy back and forth as he shouted. "Why is she so important?! Why do you care about her?!"

"S-stop! That hurts!" Cooro cried, trying to twist out of the man's grasp in panic. He felt his eyes sting as fear leap through him with every fast beat of his heart. He didn't want this to happen again.

"Answer my question!" Fly barked, tightening his grip on Cooro's wrists.

"I-I don't know! I like talking to her!" the crow spat quickly, his eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. "We're friends!" He pulled desperately, wincing. "Let me go, please!"

Fly's grip slowly loosened, his eyes fixed on Cooro's distressed face. He lowered himself to his knees, his own face now unusually soft. As Cooro began to shake from fear and held back tears, he reached up and ran a thumb across the boy's cheek. It was rewarded with a swift recoil.

"Who is hurting you?" Fly asked kindly, genuine worry on his features. It was then that Cooro realized what Fly was doing. He didn't care that he was down in the habitat. Fly yelled and shook him to get a reaction. He thinks someone is hurting him, so by doing what someone might by doing to might get a response to support his theory. Unfortunately, he got one.

"N-no one," Cooro mumbled, wiping his face. "No one is doing anything."

"You expect me to believe that?" Fly frowned, gently grabbing onto Cooro's hands. He gripped them tighter when the boy tried to pull away. He gently pushed the blue sleeves up his arms, revealing the slightly fading bruising on Cooro's wrists. The researcher very gently, almost cautiously, ran his thumb across a strip of blue-green, then looked up at Cooro questioningly. "If nothing is happening, then what do you call this?"

Cooro stared down at his injury blindly, his face blank despite his puffy eyes. Why was this happening like this? Why couldn't he hide this from Fly?

"It's nothing. I had an accident," he lied, jerking his hands away. "Why don't you believe me?"

Fly sighed gently, standing from his kneeling position. "Sorry. I'm just worried."

"Everything's ok. Don't be worried." Cooro smiled brightly, wiping his eyes one more time.

"Promise?"

The smile faltered a bit as the boy hesitated. Cooro suddenly wondered why promises were so important to Fly.

"Promise."

--

AN: Yay a long chapter. Thanks to the few people who are supporting my story!


	5. Thursday

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 5: Thursday**_

Fly hadn't believed it when Cooro promised nothing was going on. Cooro had never been one to outright lie to his face like that, but those bruises he'd found on his wrists were evidence he was far from ok. What had happened to affect such a happy, optimistic boy negatively to the point where he would refuse to utter a word about it? What was scaring him? Fly found himself pondering the boy's psyche so often it interfered with his research. He was so unfocused on Wednesday, that on Thursday he forced himself to accept an assistant. At first she seemed like a pest, but as the day wore on he found she had a passion for +Anima. Plus, with some of the workload gone, it gave him time to look at +Anima samples that _weren't_ Cooro. He couldn't keep his focus on him forever. He had a unique anima, but other people needed to be researched as well. Some young adults had just volunteered to be studied by the facility, and he still needed to take down their data and file it away.

"Name?" Fly asked, putting the tip of his pencil to the form on the table.

"Mikael Toron," the young woman before him said, stretching an arm for Fly's assistant to measure.

"Age?"

"19."

"+Anima?"

"Duck-billed Platypus."

Fly paused and looked up at Mikael. He blinked. "Are you joking?"

Mikael frowned in a timid manner. "I wish I was."

The researcher shrugged, jotting something down on his paper. "Well, a +Anima is a +Anima. Marca, next you'll need to measure her +Anima parts."

"Ah, yes!" his assistant chimed, scurrying around the front of the girl, almost tripping on the way. A look of awe blanketed her face as Mikael transformed. She wasn't terribly different in look, but different enough. Marca pulled the tape measure straight and measured her bill.

"How did you become a +Anima, Mikael?"

"I was on vacation, and my ankle was crushed by some rocks while I was swimming. I started to drown, and this platypus swam by and looked at me…" She watched as Marca measured the length of her flat, furry tail. She continued her story, but a nearby movement caught Fly's attention. He wasn't really listening to Mikael anymore as two familiar boys plodded by, books in their arms. They were chatting happily, but trying not to disturb the 'enrollment' of the new +Anima on the way to the library. Fly stared after them a while, how long he wasn't sure, since he was so lost in thought. He finally noticed a gentle prodding on his shoulder and turned distractedly towards Marca.

"Sir? What now?" the woman asked, nervously playing with her tape measure.

"Yea," was his nonsensical reply, before he stood. "Would you excuse me a moment?" He hurried after the boys, not even waiting for a reply.

--

"-And then he said, 'No! That's my cat!'"

Cooro found himself laughing genuinely for the first time in days. It felt so good to laugh again. He was lucky to have such supportive friends. They were always trying to bring the previous, happy Cooro out through the hanging gloom. The older kids had been changing chores with him to help avoid run-ins with Fly for the past few days. Falkia had become rather protective, but he didn't mind. In fact, it was rather comforting; knowing someone would be your body guard like that.

"Ha, my sister told me that one," Falkia laughed, adjusting the books in his arms so he could open the library doors. "She was such a funny girl. I miss her."

"What happened to her?" Cooro inquired, slipping inside the massive room.

"She went off into some nearby country," the 15 year old said, dropping his books on a table. "Not by her will, though. She was kidnapped a few years ago on the way home from the market. We thought she was dead until we got a letter from her last year, saying she was ok and that she was a servant for some nobleman."

Cooro smiled, picking a few books up off the stack. He'd forgotten that Falkia hadn't been taken from an orphanage. He'd been hired; he got a paycheck. Cooro gently slid some books into their place on the massive shelves, glancing at Falkia. He wondered what it was like, having a family like that. He was grateful for what he had, of course, but… He had always wondered.

The heavy oak doors creaked as they were pushed open, drawing away the attention of both males inside. Cooro blinked as Fly wandered in, and hesitated to go get another book to put away.

"Do you need something, sir?" Falkia inquired calmly, shoving a book into place.

"Actually, yes. Falkia, can I speak to you outside?" Fly motioned for the door, a gentle smile on his lips. The teen seemed a bit surprised, but he nodded and followed the man out. Cooro watched the two leave, puzzled.

Falkia shut the door quietly before approaching Fly. "What's up?"

"You're close to Cooro, right?" the man asked, suddenly looking rather worried. At Falkia's nod, he continued. "I'm very worried about him. He's been really jumpy lately."

Falkia twitched, by remained quiet.

"He's slacking; he's late to breakfast… And he's usually so happy and energetic. Have you noticed how listless he's been lately? I wish I knew why."

Something about Fly was already making Falkia angry. He _'wished he knew why'_?! Was he joking!? He frowned darkly when the man grasped his shoulders. That firm grip was uncomfortable.

"But you're close to him. He talks to you, right? You know why he's acting like this. If he's not his normal self, his study goes all wrong! And he's a special sample, so his data needs to be absolutely accurate!"

The longer Fly rambled, the quicker Falkia began to boil over. He'd been restraining himself all week; he'd wanted nothing more than to beat the daylights out of the man before him. The fact he was currently verbally treating Cooro like just another experiment and not a person with feelings and emotions was _not_ helping the researcher's case. Sheer anger told Falkia that Fly actually did remember everything that took place that night, and yet, here he was babbling on about his ignorance.

It wasn't long before he cracked.

--

Falkia didn't realize he had been screaming until after the fact, while his face and knuckles were being treated in the infirmary. It'd been like he'd blacked out; he could only remember bits and pieces of what'd taken place between Fly and himself the hour before. One thing he did know was that he'd just let himself fall into a very deep pit that would take months to get out of.

He knew that most of the blood on his shirt and fists wasn't his; he remembered punching Fly in the face for an extended period of time. A sinking guilt in his stomach told him he'd broken the man's nose. He remembered calling him a pedophile over and over, but he was told that he had called him other, more profound and inappropriate names as well. He didn't remember Fly acting out in retaliation, yet an unexplained black eye had been brought to his attention. His arms were sore from the security officers dragging him, literally kicking and screaming, away from Fly.

Despite how much hate he'd felt towards his boss, the violence he'd acted out terrified him. Never once had he laid a finger on someone in a violent manner. He yelled, screamed, and threw a fit, but never had he tackled someone and proceeded to punch them until their nose snapped. Even then, the fact he'd attacked Fly wasn't what bothered him most; it was that Cooro had seen the whole thing.

--

"How long do you have to stay here?" Cooro asked, leaning his upper body against Falkia's infirmary bed.

"They said about a week, if only to give Fly space," Falkia sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Cooro frowned. "Is he ok?"

"Yeah. I broke his nose, but that's the extent of the damage."

There was a brief pause, where Falkia mentally berated himself.

"… Thanks," Cooro said eventually, smiling gently. "For standing up for me, I mean."

The teen blinked, looking over at the boy. "Huh?"

"I mean, I don't normally support blind violence like that, and some of the things you said were uncalled for, but I know why you did it," he explained, climbing up onto the bed. "So, thanks."

"But, I might as well have told Fly what he did," Falkia said with a confused frown. "I know you didn't want to tell him."

The crow smiled happily. "It's ok, really. Besides, he was on to me anyway. He would have found out soon enough."

"… What are you going to know when he knows?"

Cooro looked at the ceiling, frowning again. "… I don't know."

AN: Short chapter is stupidly short. Booo. Thank you to everyone who is still following my fic!


	6. Next ThursdayUnknown

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 6: Next Thursday/Unknown**_

It took a whole other week for Fly to approach Cooro again. Towards the end, he was going out of his way to stay away from him all together. The crow knew he had figured out what had happened between them, if only vaguely. The man was sharp and observant; he was sure Falkia's outburst had clued him in enough. But, he wasn't complaining. It was nice to be able to walk around with Sonny (since Falkia was still contained) and not worry about running into Fly. While he _was_ at peace with what happened, it didn't stop his imagination or his pounding heart.

Cooro couldn't help but wonder what Fly thought about himself; if he was disgusted, or shameful; maybe even indifferent. Something in the back of his mind hoped he was suffering, but whenever the thought came up he quickly berated himself for wishing misfortune on someone. Life should be pleasant and happy. Besides, do unto others, right?

He had been heading towards the infirmary when he was approached by a strange, black haired woman. He'd never seen her before, but apparently she'd been told to bring him to Fly's office. The boy hesitated, but soon followed after her. She tried to make conversation, but it was lost on him. Cooro was more worried about the inevitable. He'd known this day would come, and he knew he'd never be ready for it.

It was only a few minutes before they arrived at the man's office. The woman knocked, and, when the order was given, ushered Cooro inside.

Fly was sitting behind his desk, calmly filling out what seemed to be paperwork. Noticing the man's presence, Cooro found himself half-hiding behind the woman. He hadn't even been near the researcher for a week, much less been in the same room. His fingers wrapped involuntarily into the woman's coattail, causing Marca to look at him curiously.

"Here he is, sir," she announced, gently peeling his right hand from her coat to push him closer to her boss.

"Thank you, Marca. You may go," Fly shooed casually, setting his fountain pen down on his roll of paper. The woman bowed and exited, leaving Cooro to stare at the man with an almost dead look. It was unusual, but not unseen. His eyes had held a similar deadness the first few days after the initial attack, but the sparkle had finally started to return. Now, it was gone again.

Fly stayed behind his desk.

"You look nervous, Cooro," he said finally, pushing the paper and pen aside.

"I am," Cooro responded honestly, looking away at something unimportant on his hands.

"Don't be," Fly sighed, standing from his desk. "I won't do anything to you."

Cooro shifted his weight idly, trying to look more relaxed. The truth was, he felt like his heart was going to burst from his ribcage, and his muscles already ached from being flexed. If they were going to talk about this, he needed to be calm.

Fly walked around the front of the desk, looking off at the carpet. He leaned heavily against the wood, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest. "I'm sure you know what I want to talk about."

The boy's heart gave an unpleasant thump as he nodded. The two stood in an awkward silence, where Cooro fiddled with his fingers. Finally, Fly lifted his head and gazed at the child, frowning.

"What did I do to you?"

The crow didn't know his eyes had filled with tears until they suddenly spilled out onto his cheeks. He quickly covered his face, sobbing quietly into his fingers.

--

"He's sending me away."

Falkia quickly grinned, engulfing the younger kid in a hug. "That's great, Cooro!"

Cooro blinked as he hugged the teen back. "How? I don't get to be here with you guys."

"But you won't be here with Fly. You'll be out of his danger!" Falkia pulled back to grin at him. "You won't have any rules, or someone examining you every day. No one can threaten to clip your wings; you'll be free!"

Cooro found himself sighing. He crawled up onto the infirmary bed that his friend was still forced to sleep in and folded his hands in his lap. The older boy joined him, frowning at the sigh. "… There's a catch, isn't there?"

"Fly said he was sending me away to find more +Anima. Once I find some, I bring them back here." Cooro hesitated, glancing at the ceiling. "….. When I first met Fly, he gave me some apples in exchange for a promise to give him my anima. Since I was 7, I said ok."

Falkia blinked, but remained quiet to let him finish.

"… He said that when I come back with some +Anima, it would be time to give it to him."

Suddenly, Falkia was furious. "That… That bastard," he hissed through his teeth, a growl on his lips. "Has he no shame? 'Oh, I raped you? Sorry kid. Oh by the way, I'm going to take your anima when I see you next.' Heartless son of a..."

"Falkia, it's ok, really." Cooro smiled that plastic smile he'd grown so accustomed to wearing to keep the worry away. "It's a lot to take in. He's probably just really confused."

"S'no excuse," the teen grumbled, crossing his arms. "He needs to be considerate to your feelings." He scoffed. "He probably doesn't even care." After a moment, he brightened and took Cooro's hands into his own. "But, this is great! You're finally leaving!"

Cooro frowned gently. "But I have to come back," he said, clearly puzzled.

"Not if you don't want to," Falkia grinned. "Fly's not gunna send someone out with you, right? He won't keep tabs; he'll just await your return. But if you never come back…"

Something inside Cooro's head clicked. Falkia was right; he _didn't_ have to come back. He'd make some +Anima friends under Fly's pretense, but then never even think about the research facility. He could live in an environment where he didn't constantly feel threatened.

He frowned.

But… If he did that, then he'd have added another lie to his docket. He would have let Fly down; broke his promise. He didn't owe anything to Fly, but he hated the knowledge that he'd let someone down and been selfish.

Falkia watched Cooro's face twist with his mental conflict. He sighed a bit, and squeezed his friend's hands.

"Hey," he said, successfully catching Cooro's attention. He stared at the younger boy's emotionless eyes, his brows raised slightly. "… You're not thinking about coming back, are you?"

Cooro blinked, then looked away to hide the shame on his visage. He forgot what an open book he was to certain people.

"You know what'll happen if you come back, don't you?" Falkia's voice was gentle. "I don't want to see you so broken again. No one here does." He furrows his brows. "Fly's authority can suck it. He doesn't deserve the help of such a kind person."

Cooro smiled, almost genuinely. "Thanks, Falkia." He paused, his smile failing. "…I'll miss you guys."

The teen smiled sadly and pulled Cooro into a friendly, warm hug. "We'll all miss you too, buddy. But it's for the best, right?"

He could only nod, burying his face into Falkia's shoulder.

--

The day Cooro left was very painful. Sierra had to be pried from Cooro's waist, and once she was detached she refused to stop bawling. She couldn't understand why he was leaving so suddenly, with no explanation. Finally, Cooro had no choice but to scoop the child into his arms, pet her hair, and coo empty promises into her ear. He didn't _want_ to lie to her, even if the _were_ just little white lies, but he couldn't just sit by and watch he cry. She'd end up forgetting about him anyway.

YamYam and Nancy were upset, but not enough to be crying. They were pouty and against the idea, but there wasn't anything they could do and they knew it. Sonny and Charlette were visibly depressed, but they tried to make it as happy as possible. It was for the best after what had happened, after all. They would see each other again though… right?

The kids had to voice their final goodbyes when Marca called them in for lunch. Sonny and Charlette led the smaller children into the facility, the gentle sounds of sobbing disappearing through the door to the huge building. Finally, it was just Cooro and Falkia on the steps to the main facility.

"… I guess this is goodbye, huh?" Cooro asked sadly, adjusting the 'hat' and goggles Falkia had made for him.

"I guess so," the teen responded, smiling a bit. "…It won't be the same here without you."

Cooro nodded. "I hope I find a friend soon. I don't like to be alone." He paused, looking away. "…I wish you guys could come with me."

Falkia reached out, inviting the boy into his arms. "You'll be just fine; I know you will. You're a strong kid." He pulled back and held onto Cooro's shoulders. "Take care, ok? Watch where you walk until you can fly again. I don't wanna hear about how you're in the hospital because you weren't paying attention to where you were walking."

Cooro laughed a bit, smiling as Falkia rubbed his fluffy hair. "I will."

Falkia's head turned as he heard Marca yelling for him to go inside. After yelling a response, he turned back to his friend and held out his hand.

"Until we meet again?"

Cooro smiled brightly, taking his hand. "Until we meet again."

And with that, he turned and ran down the stone stairs, leaving Falkia to watch as he disappeared into Astar's crowded streets.

--

AN: Short chapters are short. Sorry if this ended without wrapping up any questions. If something is unclear, feel free to send me a message and I'll answer your questions. The next chapter is the last, and is the Epilogue. The Epilogue will be about Fly, so if your unanswered question is about him, wait until next week to see if it's answered.


	7. Epilogue

_**Childhood**_

_**Chapter 7: Epilogue**_

Fly had never been religious. God had never really piqued his interest the way +Anima did.

Yet here he was, staring up at the Catholic Church that resided in the fields of Kilter.

He suddenly found himself in dire need of spiritual help. He needed to be forgiven and shed his burden of disbelief and guilt. But he couldn't be rid of his sins in any old church; no, it _had_ to be this one.

As Fly began into the halls before the sanctuary, he found himself avoiding the faces of the playing orphan children; Cooro's former companions before he was taken away to the facility. He had betrayed their innocence through Cooro, and they did not deserve to be dirtied by his gaze. Before he could do anything, he must be cleaned.

His feet took him down the center aisle of the small sanctuary. The alter before him was all too familiar, as a passage to the facility lie beneath it, but today it seemed different. He felt like it was staring at him with a great hatred.

Fly shook his head, and looked towards the corner of the room. A set of curtains were set up around the chairs, and as he watched, a small woman emerged from one side, and the Father from the other.

"Thank you for your time, Father," the woman said quietly, giving him a little bow. The aging man nodded in recognition.

"Of course, Mrs. Isonoe."

Fly watched idly as the woman left, then returned his gaze to the man across the way.

"Hello, Father."

The aging man walked back towards the make-shift booths. "Lord Fly Greena-Aight. To what do I owe this visit?" He began fixing the curtains.

"Nothing well, Father," Fly said, stepping forward. "I am in need of healing and redemption."

"Well, you've come to the right place, my boy," The reverend chimed, his voice booming in the small, old room. "Please, take a seat." He motioned to the chair inside the curtains he just fixed.

Fly found himself hesitating. This wasn't his first time in a confessional, but he hadn't been in one since he was a boy. He'd always told the Father about petty sins; stealing gum, getting involved in vigilante fights with bullies, neglecting studies for +Anima, that sort of thing. It had never been this serious before.

The researcher nodded gently, swallowing hard.

He never had been good at facing his demons.

As Fly closed the light, sea foam colored curtain to his side of the confessional, a sudden pang of guilt took his energy. He hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth with his hands. How could he do something so terrible to a perfect, pure, innocent little boy? He knew he could be manipulative to get what he wanted, but he didn't want something like that. He'd emotionally scarred a boy with an unusual, perfect anima. He had to send him away. Cooro wasn't going to be studied any more before his anima was removed. He was losing precious data because of an accident he had after an emotionally distressing evening. He couldn't turn back the clock and stop himself from calling Cooro into his room that night.

All that was left was redemption; the blessing of God to wash away the terrible act he committed.

Fly buried his face in his hands, his eyes burning gently with utter shame.

"Forgive me, Father," he began, digging his fingers into his scalp. "For I have sinned."

AN: Well, that's the end. I couldn't just end it without making Fly less of a bastard. I hoped you all enjoyed my not very happy story. I really had no excuse for having Fly rape Cooro besides the idea that Cooro was hiding something other than the fact he was going to lose his anima if he went back to the facility. So, uh, feel free to hate me. I have find of an f'ed up mind.

Until next time, guys!


End file.
